


One Time Troy Ruined Alicia's Day, and One Time He Saved It

by hummingrightalong



Category: Fear the Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Motherhood, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, baby own
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 05:32:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16402241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hummingrightalong/pseuds/hummingrightalong
Summary: Alicia's pregnancy woes and the support from her family, boyfriend, and especially her brother in law





	One Time Troy Ruined Alicia's Day, and One Time He Saved It

It’s always hard to find that perfect pair of jeans. The ones that end up your favorite and you hold onto them until they’re far beyond appropriate to wear in public anymore. I mean like, ripped, tattered, tattooed with little doodles because you were bored or got them young enough that you thought it was cool to use a permanent marker to write your boyfriend’s name with a big old shaky heart around it.

Well, there I was, trying to squeeze into my favorite pairs of pants. I don’t even know how they lived as long as they did, but I was devastated the day I couldn’t get them up past my hips without jumping up and down like a clown, or laying flat on the bed. 

A few weeks after I noticed that and quietly took up a few more labor intensive jobs around the homestead, maybe it was getting a little too comfy around our self-sufficient fortress of solitude. I thought (like an idiot) that maybe AGE was getter the better of me and I needed to step up the cardio - it’ll get better if i just get a little more exercise...No. No it did not, it got worse. 

Much worse. 

What the FUCK was going on?

Yeah we were certainly spoiled by the careful preparations of the Otto family (FORTRESS OF SOLITUDE-Troy hates me calling it that, he’s a Marvel fan), of the massive food storage, the fresh butter and cream from the livestock, and fresh baked bread by (surprisingly) my boyfriend every few days. I just keep discovering the weirdest shit about him, and him about me...

The fact that I was getting kind of comfortable and fat in the apocalypse wasn’t something I wanted to share, or be discovered.

So I scream for my brother. 

I’m getting in these fucking jeans.

Even if it’s been a couple weeks since I could button them on my own. 

Today was going to be the day.

After I explained it to him, threatening to spill every embarrassing thing he’d yet to tell Troy if he made a big deal of it, I got his skinny ass to help squeeze my curvier than ever hips and slightly(!) rounded belly into my favorite pants.

There’s some things that even in the end of times you need to stay sane.

After Nick ducks out, I notice that Troy had been hanging out on the other side of the door, tucked as small, and flattened to the wall, as his huge ass self could manage, chewing his fucking fingernails (GROSS) and staring/not staring in impatient(?) silence.

He kind of throws a package at me, and immediately I know what it is and hate him for even suggesting it.

“I am not!” Maybe a little bratty, but damn it, I can’t have this right now. Could anybody? 

Probably, but I’m terrified. And unfortunately, 20 minutes later, I know the asshole is right.

“How’d you know?!” I demanded, throwing the pregnancy test at him. He tries his best to dodge it and doesn’t make the *biggest* deal out of my stupidity. 

In fact, the only thing he says it, “the signs were pretty obvious.”

 

***

 

By halfway through the pregnancy I’m kind of really getting used to this idea.

So is Jake. He’s endlessly giving me tips I don’t want or need (I’m a big girl and it’s my damn body), and the suggestions of names he comes up with...aren’t that good. 

A lot of them are biblical, and I respect his faith but it’s not mine (kinda agnostic on the whole thing)...basically I just plain don’t like them but I let him keep a list and my own is safely in my head. The baby’s name will come from that damn it.

I wanted to be a good mother. A great mother. When I found out I was going to be one anyway. 

I never wanted this before, and there’s lots more reasons now to not want it; it’s more dangerous, mom really screwed us up...Jake wants to be married first (not going to happen and if he keeps badgering it’s never happening).

Now it may sound like my relationship isn’t solid. That’s not true at all. Jake is there for me through the whole process and now I know how Nick must’ve felt because being near perfect people is maddening. 

He’s even uber supportive through the birth, which is early (SCARY), and not as painful as it could be- I hear- but no picnic either. Especially considering how many men were there, telling me shit I didn’t wanna hear, like fucking TROY, “you really don’t wanna be lying down for this - ok, nevermind, be stubborn and see how much longer it takes” (He was right, by the way…)

The time after is the worst part honestly. Call me selfish or crazy but the worst part is that I can’t seem to get Owen to breastfeed. Rather my body isn’t producing what it needs to for him to do that. He’s a preemie, so fussy and frighteningly small. Especially held by anybody but me, and *especially* in my brother or his boyfriend’s large hands. He’s so small.

The Otto brothers make baby food, baby formula, but I know that Owen and I need the bonding. I feel horrible about it, like I’m failing him. I can’t help but think of my own mother, and the way I felt sidelined most of childhood. I never wanted my kid to feel like that. I know it sounds crazy that a little thing like not breastfeeding would make me wonder if I’m permanently fucking up my child but that’s exactly how it felt- not being able to provide that little thing for him.

Jake tries everything. Tells me to relax, rest, takes the baby more than he needs to. Have you ever TRIED to relax? It is a paradox. 

“No Jake, it’s NOT ok.” In the middle of our dinner together the subject comes up.

 

‘What do you mean it’s not ok? It’s not like it’s uncommon.” He’s trying to be gentle. I really don’t want that right now.

“No.” I stomp my foot like a child, and punctuate my disapproval with myself and this conversation by pointing at my boyfriend with a knife. It swings towards Nick when he starts talking.

“I’m pretty sure mom didn’t even do that,” my brother is trying his best but FUCK THAT.

“That’s the point!” I’m probably shrieking like a banshee but these BOYS don’t get it. “I can’t even nourish him from my tit like I’m supposed to!”

It’s Troy that really solves it.

He comes in with Owen, nestles him in my arms, and swoops me up. Next thing I know, I’m on the couch, my (actually pretty dirty) feet in Troy’s lap.

“You might wanna take your bra off…”

“What the FUCK are you doing?” I have to ask because, it’s a little weird, getting a foot rub from your brother in law (Troy and Nick actually got married - I told you not to press it Jake - Victor is ordained...of course). But I instantly feel more relaxed and Troy quips that Jake wouldn’t be able to do it right - one arm and all. Jake only rolls his eyes.

“Shut the fuck up would you? Just look at your baby...bond or something, the rest should come pretty natural.” I think he’s mocking my inability to parent and lack of motherly instincts but then, Troy launches into a very well informed mini-rant as he continues rubbing my sore feet (ugh, everything is sore really…) “Studies in reflexology suggest that breastfeeding mothers, especially those with premature babies, produce more breast milk if they receive regular foot massages…” As if just to spite me I think I can actually FEEL the milk ducts in my breasts individually start to swell. Seriously. WHAT THE FUCK.

“Specifically foot massages? Why?” I demand, lifting my t-shirt without a care for present company and I want to cry when it happens, Owen latches on, the milk starts to flow...Yep I’m crying. Troy doesn’t notice or doesn’t mention it.

“Well for one it relaxes the mother, which is important for the body to do what it needs to do. If you care to see the research I can-”

“Yes! Yes, I would like that.”

My brother gives Jake a look as they pass into the room and hear the conversation. ‘Oh great, they found common crazy ground’ I’m sure they’re thinking. They’re probably right. But if there’s one thing Troy and I have in common it’s a love of research…

“I think she’s done being crazy at least.” I hear my brother’s voice but i don’t care. It’s true. I was, I’m done, and Troy is the one who fixed it. I touch his shoulder, he spares me a look, a small smile.

“You’re gonna be a great mom,” He says, barely audible.

“Thanks Troy.” He shrugs. 

Of course it’s no big deal to him, that’s honestly what he does when he can, helps people. Nick saw that. And I’m so fucking grateful he brought him into the family.

The way he helps people has been a little misguided at times, but he’s always genuinely who he is and right now he’s the guy that solved a problem that was going to drive me into a spiral of madness.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't hate Madison but let's face it she was NOT a good mother.


End file.
